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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29565459">making conversations with the voices at the table</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversincewefellapart/pseuds/eversincewefellapart'>eversincewefellapart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Hook-Up, written after season one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:08:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29565459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversincewefellapart/pseuds/eversincewefellapart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Eve works for MI6, and Oksana is the teacher at her son's school that she can't stop thinking about.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>making conversations with the voices at the table</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello! i wrote this maybe two years ago immediately after watching Killing Eve season one. i never posted it because i always thought i would write another sex scene + a more fleshed out ending, but obviously that never happened. it's good enough to stand alone now though i think, so i hope it's a little bit enjoyable!</p><p>
it's not been properly edited but i have skimmed it over and tried to fix any mistakes i saw.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is a shockingly nice day for London; blue skies with a nice little breeze that circulates throughout the house when Eve cracks open the window in the kitchen. She’s got her mobile pressed between her shoulder and cheek as she undoes the latch, inhaling once the window frame swings open and a wave of fresh air washes over her face. “Yes, Carolyn,” she says into the speaker, and waves at the elderly neighbour hobbling down the sidewalk.</p><p>Mateusz is at the dining table in his school uniform, tablet propped up against a box of cereal playing some anime he’s currently obsessed with. “You should get airpods, umma,” he says around a mouthful of toast. She glares at him. He shrugs. “For real. They’re easy to use. You look like you’re struggling.”</p><p>“I am not struggling,” she says, and pushes his plate of breakfast closer to him. He rolls his eyes. “Hurry up and eat, we’re going to be late.” Into her mobile, she says, “sorry, that was nothing. I was talking to my kid.”</p><p>She pauses, nibbling on the hangnail of her thumb as Carolyn continues. “It’s what we thought,” Eve says once she’s finished, “we knew he was selling to Russian mobsters. Is he Russian himself though?”</p><p>“My teacher’s Russian,” Mateusz offers helpfully. Eve sighs at him, switching her cell to her other ear to snatch the half-eaten toast from his hands. He faux-gasps, but she knows he’s relieved; he’s always hated breakfast. He’s too thin and she always has to force it down his throat every morning, but she can’t help it; she worries.</p><p><em> Cool </em>, she mouths sarcastically, and Mateusz grins back. He pushes his chair back from the table, heading over to the living room, where he takes a stack of textbooks off the coffee table and proceeds to shove them haphazardly into his backpack.</p><p>“I can do it,” she continues to Carolyn, biting the toast. She chews, then, “I know how to use a <em> gun </em> , Carolyn, <em> jeez </em>.”</p><p>“My teacher knows how to use a gun,” Mateusz calls from the living room distractedly, tugging on his thick blue school jumper.</p><p>Eve pauses.</p><p>“What?” she asks, squinting, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. She then notices the clock above the stove. “Shit, Carolyn, I have to go,” she says, grabbing her blazer and car keys. Mateusz is already out the door. “I’ll see you at work really soon, I just have to drop my kid off at school.”</p><p>She closes her mobile and drops it into the messy bottomless pit of her bag, grabbing some dossiers from the table in the foyer before following after Mateusz. He’s already in the passenger seat of the car, which she apparently forget to lock the previous night.</p><p>“You forgot to lock the car, umma,” he sing-songs once she slides in behind the wheel. She reaches over and muses his hair until he scowls.</p><p>“Not like you’ve ever forgotten anything, huh,” she says, peeling off their street. Then, “how do you know your teacher can use a gun?”</p><p>“<em> Bro </em> ,” Mateusz says, turning to face Eve as much as he can with his seatbelt in the way. “She’s a little bit mad, I think. Super weird, but I like her ‘cause she’s not bossy.” He sighs frustratedly. “Not like Mister <em> Bradbury </em>, that prick.”</p><p>“Didn’t answer my question, kid.”</p><p>“Oh, that.” He settles back in his seat. “If we behave she tells us stories about when she lived in Russia. They’re <em> wild </em>, umma. Russia’s off it, I think. It’s dope.”</p><p>“She’s not...she didn’t say anything bad, right? About the gun?” Eve rakes a hand through her hair, making a right. “Shit. I don’t know how to put this. That’s just...strange to tell your students.” She likes to think of herself as the <em> cool mom </em> , versus Niko’s very <em> un </em> -cool dad behaviour of fussing and worrying constantly; giving Mateusz copious freedom and not really even ever knowing where he, like, <em> is </em> , most of the time, but she’s not <em> completely </em> gone. Red flags can still appear.</p><p>“Nah,” Mateusz says. “If you’re worried about her, like, killing us, that’s not gonna happen. She’s weird but not<em> that </em>weird.” He makes a face, and then turns back to her. “Umma?”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“If you don’t want airpods, then can you get me a pair?”</p><p>She rolls her eyes.</p><p>Pulling into the parking lot of Mateusz’s school becomes increasingly more difficult every day, but today she manages it as well, pulling him in for a big wet kiss on his forehead just to make him squirm and bat at her. She waves to him through the window as he slams the door, watching him join a group of Asian boys who whoop when they see him; a boy wearing a dark green turban pulls Mateusz in and gives him an awkward side-hug immediately.</p><p>She’s about to pull out of the parking lot and head to work when she notices a woman, young, with red waves tumbling out of a bandana with an intricate design stitched onto it, walk up to the group of boys. They all greet her loudly enough Eve can hear it even all the way in the car, and she grins at them, cocking her head before stuffing her hands in the pocket of her dress and stalking towards the front doors of the school.</p><p>Eve raises an eyebrow. Reddish hair, a bandana, a dress with pockets that fall to her knees, chunky bead necklace...she’s pretty sure that was the teacher Mateusz was chirping about, because she was <em> weird </em>.</p><p>Eve bites her lip. She was kind of beautiful too, a striking face of defined lines and a curlish little smirk.</p><p>Well. Whatever. She pulls in between two cars, sort of forcing herself in the way and ignoring the face of annoyance from the man in the giant BMW suv behind her. He wouldn’t have given her an in otherwise if she hadn’t taken it, and she’s about to be late for work.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“Drinks?” Bill asks Eve flatly the next evening, after she’s yawned in his face disrespectfully, like, twenty times.</p><p>“Oh, I wish,” she says around another yawn, closing the lid of her laptop, “but I have to get home.” She closes her eyes, squeezing the bridge of her nose before pushing herself up from her desk chair.</p><p>“Got somewhere important to be, hm?” he asks, peering at her curiously. She nods a little lopsidedly, grappling around behind herself for her jacket until she’s finally grabbed it.</p><p>“Always,” she says, shucking it on, and continues when Bill’s stare still hasn’t wandered off. “Parent teacher night at Mateusz’s school,” she offers helpfully, and he <em> ahhs </em>.</p><p>“Right then,” he says, shooing her away before turning back to his computer. “Off you go.”</p><p>The case has been doing her head in, honestly. The guy is kind of brilliant, not the usual dumb European she was hoping for; they can never find out his next steps before he’s already gone. She’s spent her last few days working overtime, texting Mateusz to take the tube home with an apology and an e-transfer of a couple pounds to grab a bite to eat. When she gets home past midnight she still lays in bed, awake, watching the shadows play on her ceiling, thinking about the case.</p><p>She’s bloody tired, is the point.</p><p>But she’s not exactly keen on the school getting suspicious of her. She’s put off meeting Mateusz’ teachers for a few years, and she’s sure the school will probably freak out if she does it again and contact child welfare. That’s a whole can of worms she doesn’t want opened and spilled all on her, so she stops at a Starbucks, gets a venti caramel whatever-the-fuck with three extra shots of espresso, and trudges up the steps of the school.</p><p>The air smells nice, like cut grass. It had rained a few hours ago and there’s a crisp chill about. She sips her drink and winces. It’s honestly a little shit.</p><p>Once she’s signed in at the main office, she wanders about, picking at the sweets left out for the parents on various tables. She’s texting Mateusz, asking for his location in the maze of his school, and he’s replying very cryptically, as is the way of the modern teenager, she supposes.</p><p>“Lost?”</p><p>She looks up from her mobile, teeth nibbling at the rim of her Starbucks, and comes face-to-face with Mateusz’s weird teacher.</p><p>Her hair is not red anymore (or orange, or -- whatever it had been, before); it’s blonde, pulled back in a neat ponytail. Her clothes are so mature, a navy blazer over a white shirt, beige trousers that fit her legs just <em> really </em> well, <em> so </em> well Eve is honestly fiercely jealous. She can <em> never </em> find pants that fit as well as that, christ.</p><p>It’s a miracle Eve can identify her at all, but. It’s all in the face, and this weird teacher has an exceptionally memorable face.</p><p>“No!” Eve exclaims, switching her Starbucks to her left hand and sticking out her right. The woman shakes it, eyes widening at Eve, a smile creeping along her face. She looks a little confused, but also intrigued, cocking her head. “No, I was looking for you!”</p><p>The woman’s eyes widen impossibly further. “You were?”</p><p>“Yes!” It’s Eve’s turn to cock her head, and she narrows her eyes. “Well, I think I am. Was. Are you Mateusz’s teacher? Mateusz Polastri.”</p><p>The woman gasps, clapping her hands together. She smiles wider, and Eve can see the sharp teeth behind her waxy red lips. “Mateusz! Yes!”</p><p>She stands straighter in front of Eve, crossing her arms behind her back. It pushes her chest out a little bit, and while she’s a little on the lithe side, not as full-bodied, Eve’s eyes still drop to hear breasts without her permission. They’re firm and perky-looking underneath her white shirt.</p><p>She blinks, coughs into her elbow, and meets the woman’s eyes again. The woman is smirking completely unabashed, like she <em> knows </em> . And she ought to, with how boldly Eve just ogled her. <em> Jesus </em>.</p><p>“So then I guess it is you I was looking for,” Eve says finally, when she spots a couple walking out of a classroom and in their direction. “Pleasure to meet you.”</p><p>“Pleasure’s all mine,” the woman replies, still smiling. “How do you know Mateusz?”</p><p>Eve pauses.</p><p>The evening gets stranger from there.</p><p>Miss Astankova has a residual accent. It’s noticeable, but it comes out heavier on some words more than others, and sometimes she forgoes a word altogether in her sentences. Her classroom is absolutely <em> covered </em>in student-made posters, and Eve tries to make out why all the usual inspirational quotes teachers usually plaster on their walls have all violently taped over.</p><p>She touches the shiny vinyl of one, rubbing at the duct tape pasted across it each which way. If she leans in really close, she can barely make out what it reads: <em> A TEACHER TAKES A HAND, OPENS A MIND, TOUCHES A HEART. </em></p><p>“Bloody hate those,” Miss Astankova says from behind Eve. Eve startles. Miss Astankova doesn’t apologize; just bites into the apple she’s suddenly materialized from thin air.</p><p>“So odd, don’t you think?” she says, chewing loudly, before stopping. She glares at the apple and then chucks it --   <em> hard </em>, with a swing to be admired --   across the room into the rubbish bin placed beside the doorway. “Talking about touching children and stuff. Weird.”</p><p>She strides over to her desk and takes a napkin from the box resting on her books, wiping her hands before looking back at Eve. Eve blinks back at her.</p><p>“Right,” Eve offers, when it’s clear Miss Astankova doesn’t plan to say anything else. She just leans her hip against her desk, crossing her arms over her chest, and then drags her eyes over Eve, from her shoes to and landing on Eve’s gaze.</p><p>What the <em> fuck </em>.</p><p>“So,” Eve continues. She hasn’t been to one of these things in, like, three years. She can’t remember how they’re supposed to devolve, but she’s certain not like <em> this </em>. “How is Mateusz...doing?”</p><p>“Right,” Miss Astankova says, wagging a finger. “Mateusz. Mateusz.” She slides her hands into the pockets of her trousers, tilting her head, face scrunching up as if she’s pondering. “Good boy. Very smart.” She meets Eve’s eyes. “Knows many languages, hmm?”</p><p>“Oh,” Eve says, flustered. Her Starbucks has long gone cold, combined with the fact that it was disgusting anyway, but she hasn’t tossed it out yet because it gives her something to busy her hands with. “Well, we -- me and Niko, his father -- we try to teach him our native languages, you know? We know we’re not the best, and we haven’t been doing very well, per se --”</p><p>“No, no!” Miss Astankova gasps, waving her hands out in front of her, eyes comically wide. “You’ve done very well, Eve. It’s important to know many languages, no matter how shit you are at it.”</p><p>Eve cannot, for the life of her, tell if that was an insult. “Uh, thank you?” she tries, and Miss Astankova nods, satisfied, clasping her hands together.</p><p>“Where is your husband tonight, if you don’t...” she smiles, baring her perfect teeth, “...mind my asking?”</p><p>Eve shifts. “Oh. I’m divorced, actually.” Then, “but! Mateusz stays the weekend with Niko all the time. They have a very strong relationship. It’s -- that’s important to me, you know, that he, uh, has that.”</p><p>“Oh, yes, definitely,” Miss Astankova says. Eve notices then that she hasn’t apologized about Eve’s divorce, either; whenever Eve tells someone, they usually get flustered and try to hand over useless platitudes. “Your ex husband is Polish?”</p><p>“Proudly,” Eve says, “and so is Mateusz.” She pauses. “Well, he’s also proudly Korean?” She tries again. “We try to raise him to be proud and in-touch with Polish and, well, Korean culture.”</p><p>“<em> Very </em> important,” Miss Astankova says, and steps towards Eve, pointing a finger in her face. Eve notices her hands are ringless before she even thinks about the disrespectful connotations of sticking you finger in a stranger’s face. “Just because you immigrate, does <em> not </em> mean you should lose touch with your culture and your language and your background, you know?”</p><p>“I agree,” Eve says, mostly so Miss Astankova will stop pointing at her. “Mateusz told me you’re Russian, so I imagine you can relate to the struggle of keeping in touch with your background, Miss Astankova.”</p><p>Miss Astankova whirls around. “No-pe.” She pops the <em> p </em>.</p><p>Okay then. "Um,” Eve says.</p><p>Miss Astankova throws a wink over her shoulder. “My name is Oksana,” she says, “you can just call me that. I <em> despise </em> formalities.”</p><p>“Right. Of course.”</p><p>And somehow, impossibly, things devolve even further from there.</p><p>“Where is Mateusz, anyway?” Oksana asks, and <em> that </em> gets Eve out from her stupor.</p><p>“I -- excuse me?” she asks, and Oksana blinks at her. “I’m sorry, <em> what </em>?”</p><p>“What?” Oksana asks. She spreads her arms out, like she’s helpless. Her accent comes out thick around the word. Eve really likes it despite herself. “I can’t keep track of all of them.”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t Miss just, like, the coolest, umma,” Mateusz says in the car an hour later, once Eve had darted around his fucking<em> labrynth </em> of a school, christ.</p><p>“I dunno,” Eve says, switching lanes. “She’s kind of weird.” <em> And very extremely hot, </em>she does not say.</p><p>God, she’s single.</p><p>Mateusz rolls his eyes. “I told you she’d be. But I think that makes her even cooler, like.”</p><p>“Well, she seems to like you,” Eve says, and hopes it comes out in her<em> this conversation is over now because I am bloody tired </em> voice. “And you like her, and that’s all that matters. Just keep your grades up.”</p><p>“If I keep them up, can I get airpods?” Mateusz asks, hopeful.</p><p>Eve sighs deeply, squinting at the road. It’s so dark out even with the beams on. “That suggests an alternative where you don’t keep your grades up if I say no.”</p><p>“<em> Umma </em> ,” he whines, “please, come on, <em> everyone </em> has them now, no one uses wire buds. Aamir makes fun of me all the time, <em> pleeeease </em> -”</p><p>“I think you’re exaggerating. I don’t think everyone has them yet.” Eve is having a hard time keeping up with the conversation, between the dark roads and the fatigue and the burning image of Oksana’s perky tits running through her head. “I don’t have them, just for starters.”</p><p>Mateusz groans.</p><p>She smiles in the dark.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>When they get home, it’s a quick late supper of whatever leftovers from the previous night they have left, and then Mateusz heads up to his room to do a sheet of maths exercises before bed.</p><p>For her part, Eve goes to her bathroom, locking the door behind herself before stripping -- shedding the uncomfortable pencil skirt, the nylons that are close to tearing pretty much everywhere, the button-down shirt and the horrid bra. She turns on the spray of the shower and as she waits for it to heat up she combs through her mess of hair, sighing.</p><p>She’s a little bit turned on -- has been, abstractly, since she first laid eyes on Oksana close-up. She’s not had sex since three months before the divorce which was, what, a year ago at this point? And she’s starting to feel it.</p><p>For what it’s worth, the detachable shower head has definitely been some help in quelling the ache for the past year, and it certainly helps now, washing down her body with cucumber and mint scented body wash. Her thoughts drift to Oksana, and her hands drift lower, lower.</p><p>She’s too tired to drag it out teasingly slow and her haunches are beginning to burn from the strain of standing so long during the day and now, so she rubs one out quickly, thinking about Oksana on her knees, mouth busy.</p><p>She drags herself from the shower and just barely manages to dry off mediocrely, pulling on a pair of clean underwear and a shirt that’s probably -- very loose<em> probably </em> here --   been washed in the last two weeks before she tumbles into bed, blacking out.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, darling,” Elena says as soon as Eve walks into the office the next morning. Then, once she’s actually looked up from her computer, “oh, jesus, you look like absolute shit, love.”</p><p>“Thank you, truly,” Eve says tiredly. She can feel the beginnings of a truly spectacular headache creeping in. She throws her car keys onto her desk, dropping her laptop bag and purse to the floor by her chair and begins shucking off her coat. “Anything on our boy Vassiliev?” she asks Kenny, who is dutifully typing away on his computer, pointedly not making any snide remarks about her current state. She likes him.</p><p>“Nothing yet,” he replies, “but don’t worry, I’m working on it.” Then, with a grimace, “Eve, the bags under your eyes...” he trails off.</p><p>She does not like him anymore. “Hush,” she says, and then crams half the apple fritter she picked up this morning en route to work into her mouth. “You look equally as tired,” she says around it, and then tacks on, “I ought to tell Carolyn,” just to scare him.</p><p>He looks horrified. “Please no,” he says. Mission accomplished.</p><p>That’s when Bill enters the office. He’s typing on his mobile, cradling a book in the crook of his arm, and says, “good morning,” without looking up.</p><p>When he does look up, he promptly drops both his mobile and book. “Bloody hell, Eve,” he says.</p><p>She kind of wants to float away. “Right, I look hideous, I know, don’t worry, I’ve been told.” She swallows the other half of her apple fritter and collapses into her chair.</p><p>“Not hideous,” Bill corrects, collecting his things from off the floor. “Tired.”</p><p>“Well, I am,” she says. “I’m very tired, and I’d appreciate it if we can all just <em> move on </em> and focus on Vassiliev.”</p><p>Bill looks at Elena, wide-eyed. “Not just tired but cranky as well,” he remarks, and Elena nods in response, chewing at the butt of her pen.</p><p>“I think she needs a good lap,” she says, and then reaches across her desk to tap Eve with said pen, now wet, “and also a good shag.”</p><p>“Good grief,” Eve moans. Elena holds her hands up in surrender.</p><p>“Fine, fine, I’ll admit, I’m being awful.” She swings onto Kenny next. “And you, love? Shagged any fit birds recently?” She waggles a brow. “Shagged any cute <em> lads </em>, perhaps?”</p><p>Kenny blushes furiously. Eve notes it, and reaches for her laptop bag, slipping it out and booting it up. “Piss off,” he mumbles, slipping his earbuds in and hunching back over his keyboard. Eve can hear the shitty Scandinavian EDM playing in his ears from her desk.</p><p>Elena leans over to Eve, cupping a hand over her mouth and loudly whispering, “darling Kenny is exploring his sexuality right now.”</p><p>“Elena!” Kenny shouts. Eve doesn’t understand how he could have possibly heard anything over his music.</p><p>“Don’t worry Kenny,” Eve offers languidly, “we’ve all been there.”</p><p>“Right?” Elena agrees. “In fact, I may be exploring mine right at this moment as well.” She leans back in her chair with a thoughtful look. “I’m eighty-two percent sure my flat neighbour is a lesbian, and I’m ninety-five percent sure she wants in my panties.”</p><p>“I say go for it,” Eve offers.</p><p>“Oh, I really think I might,” Elena winks.</p><p>Kenny looks like he’s about to keel over and die. And that’s even before Bill jumps in.</p><p>“Eve,” he says, “you’ve been with women?” He looks surprised. Eve is a little offended.</p><p>“Oh yeah,” she says, sucking in a breath through her teeth. “<em> Oh </em>, yeah.”</p><p>“Ooh, sounds interesting,” Elena says, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her cheeks on her knuckles. “Do go on.”</p><p>“Please, don’t you all have work to be doing?” Kenny begs. Bill shushes him, perching on the edge of Eve’s desk and leaning in.</p><p>“Well,” Eve says, digging through her purse for her water bottle. “I first noticed my attraction to women in high school.” Bill lets out an agreeable sigh, face going dreamy. He’s probably thinking about all the cute rugby boys he’d shagged at in dusty libraries at his boarding school about a million years ago. “I’d dated a few guys beforehand but nothing was serious, right? We held hands in front of our mates and awkwardly kissed in public parks.”</p><p>She pauses to take a swig of her water. Elena and Bill are absorbed, leaning in impossibly close. Even Kenny’s taken his headphones off. He’s still facing his computer but he’s not moving, fingers twitching uselessly over the keyboard.</p><p>“And honestly I got tired of it, you know? The boring relationships translated into boring sex.” She types her password into her laptop. “I thought I deserved more. And then...well.”</p><p>“<em> Yes </em>?” Bill prods, annoyed.</p><p>Eve lowers her voice. “There was a girl who had rumours circulating her. She played soccer -” Elena scowls “--   <em> football </em>, sorry. And everyone thought she was gay.”</p><p>“Was she?” Kenny asks, all innocence.</p><p>Elena nearly explodes. “<em> Yes </em> , Kenny, love, she <em> was </em>, that was the whole point of this story, she was gay, Eve shagged her, it was incredible, et al.”</p><p>“Well,” Eve says, and takes another sip of her water, “she actually wasn’t gay. She was pretty straight in fact. But her mate was very gay.”</p><p>Elena sinks back. Kenny is, as always, mostly expressionless. Bill eyeballs Elena. </p><p>Eve sighs, settling back into her chair, legs sprawled out. “And man was she something.” She nods to herself.</p><p>“Better than the boys, I take?” Bill questions.</p><p>“<em> Oh </em> yeah,” Eve confirms. “The first night she made me come so many goddamn times I truly, honest to god thought I was going to die. I didn’t think that was normal. I didn’t know a woman could come like that!” Kenny is completely red, so Eve tacks on, “even when we stopped, it felt like I was still coming,” just to watch him nearly keel over and die.</p><p>Bill slaps a congratulatory hand on her shoulder, nodding his approval, as Kenny says, “Eve, thank you, but I’ve just got some info on Vasiliev, so -”</p><p>“Ooh!” Eve says, sitting up straight. “Send it over then.”</p><p>Elena looks thoughtful when Eve glances over at her. “Do you think my neighbour can make me come like that?” she asks, leaning close into Eve, face dead serious.</p><p>“If she can’t then she’s doing something wrong, I’d assume,” Eve tells her, and then swivels her chair back to Kenny. “Right! The point was --  don’t be ashamed about exploring your sexuality, Kenny. Like I said, we’ve all been there.”</p><p>Kenny looks back at her now, face a little softer, less flushed. “Thanks, Eve, I think.”</p><p>“And if he doesn’t make you come until you black out, you dump him, got it?” she adds.</p><p>“Right then. I’m going to the loo,” Kenny mutters, pushing himself from his chair and fleeing the office faster than humanly possible.</p><p>Elena tsks. “Weak,” she puffs out.</p><p>Eve snorts.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Eve doesn’t let Mateusz use the tube as often as before, mostly because she’s broken up one too many prostitution rings and she’s always been a little paranoid. Mateusz tells her he doesn’t need her protection but is ultimately pretty happy with that; he’s always hated the train station and he and his lads split up a while before making it there, which annoys him. Eve always greets him with a bag of baked goods too, which definitely does help in making him more agreeable.</p><p>She can’t be there to get him every night though, and Fridays are especially hard, so she and Niko agree that they can extend Mateusz’s time with his dad. Niko picks him up directly from school instead of from the house at nine pm like before.</p><p>She gets off work around ten pm and arrives to an empty home.</p><p>She’d been starving but knew she’d be too tired to even attempt to cook, so she’d grabbed a kebab from the twenty-four hour place on her way home, and she settles on the couch with it now, a cold bottle of coke on the coffee table and Netflix running in the background. She’s flipping through a manila folder in her lap and chewing noisily and Mateusz isn’t throwing himself over the back of the couch and tangling up around her and it’s nice. She loves the kid, right, but she needs her alone time. Sometimes she needs to sit in the living room in her underwear and let the shredded lettuce inside her kebab fall down the front of her tank top.</p><p>It’s pretty perfect. The only thing that would make it that much better is if she had someone to get her off.</p><p>You can’t blame her; she went from being married and having pretty routine, if a little unsatisfying, sex whenever time and schedules permitted it. That’s probably been one of the hardest parts of the divorce; only slightly less difficult to get through than how hard Mateusz had cried when they’d slid into his bedroom all that time ago, sitting awkwardly on the foot of his bed and squeezing his ankle underneath his comforter.</p><p>She polishes off her kebab and slaps the folder closed, setting it on the coffee table. The words are beginning to look like hieroglyphics swimming in front of her eyes. She’s been consuming information non-stop for the past couple weeks and her brain is about to leak out of her ears at this point.</p><p>She sits in the silence for a moment, running a hand through her hair, gently fingering through the slight knots. She could call Bill and they can finally grab those drinks, but it’s his turn to choose a bar and he’d definitely take her to a place with stick-thin boys dressed in various erotic outfits. It would end much like it did last time --   she’d be sitting with the sympathetic bartender, nursing her third or fourth beer, watching Bill gloat underneath a twink grinding in his lap. Or a twunk?</p><p>Doesn’t matter if it’s a twink or a twunk; it’s just not what she’s looking for tonight. She picks up her mobile and enters <em> lesbian bar </em> in the search engine, not even sure if those still even exist.</p><p>They do, in fact, and there’s one tucked at the end of the street not that far away.</p><p>It’s only when she’s showered quickly, forced herself into a slinky dress leftover from a mission in Germany with Bill, and is attempting to line her eyes with black is when she second-guesses it all.</p><p>She’s not sure what she’s doing, exactly. It can’t be easy to just wander out to the bar and pick someone up. She’s been out of the game for a while, ball and chain and all.</p><p>She stares at her reflection for a second before she continues to line her eyes. Afterwards she rubs a bit of lipstick over her lips for a splash of colour and tosses her hair over her shoulder, tongue sliding over her teeth.</p><p>Whatever. She’s got it.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>She most certainly does not got it.</p><p>Okay, well -- the thing is, it was going well. She had gotten a fruity-looking drink because they’re good and she’s not ashamed whatsoever. She’d been twisting the tiny paper umbrella wedged into the thick slice of lime sunk onto the rim of the glass, enjoying the vodka and cranberry enough to get a little lost in the sauce so to speak. A fit woman with short green hair even semi-flirted with her while waiting for her own drink, but she’d disappeared into the crowd as soon as the bartender slid it over. Eve was chill with that though. She wanted a few more vodka cranberries before she’d head out in search of a part-time lover.</p><p>It was going well, and then Oksana showed up.</p><p>Eve nearly spit her drink out. That is unmistakeably her son’s teacher, wearing a white sleeveless shirt and the tightest jeans known to man with a pair of lace-up hunting boots. Her arms have got muscle definition, and she’s got a dark split lip.</p><p>Eve did not know that <em> that </em>was apparently her thing; her legs cross on their own accord where she’s sat on a barstool and looking at Oksana honestly hurts a little bit.</p><p>Oksana’s face is dark, scanning the room, eyebrows drawn and mouth set in a line. When her eyes land on Eve though her features light up -- eyes wide, lips stretching into a smile. She looks infinitely younger. She waves at Eve.</p><p>Eve waves back. <em> Please god do not bring those arms and those eyes and that mouth over here please god </em>, she thinks.</p><p>Oksana begins making her way over.</p><p>Eve elegantly smooths her dress down from the waist. She panics internally. <em> Oh god oh god oh fuck is this because I haven’t been to church in decades? </em></p><p>“Hello!” Oksana says, slapping her palms on the bar top and smiling open-mouthed and immediately crowing into Eve’s space.</p><p><em> Jeeeeesus </em>, Eve’s brain manages to think, before it short-circuits. Oksana’s moved a hand over to Eve’s hair, stroking through it before bringing a curl up to her nose and inhaling, eyes closed.</p><p>“Mmm,” she says, and peeks back at Eve through her lashes. “Smells nice.”</p><p>What the fuck.</p><p>“Thank you?” Eve says. Oksana lets her hair go, leaning back against the bar, and shamelessly ogles her. Eve will die. “Your -- your lip. Are you alright?”</p><p>“<em> Very </em>,” Oksana replies, smile going impossibly wider. “I was sparring with a friend.”</p><p>“Oh?” Eve asks, and reaches out to thumb over Oksana’s lip. Oksana freezes underneath her hand, and for a second Eve thinks she may have overstepped, but instead Oksana just sags forward into her touch, eyes fluttering shut again.</p><p>“Mmm,” Oksana says again, and her mouth twitches when Eve’s thumb slips away like it’s trying to follow her. She’s like a slinky cat, Eve thinks. “It is my hobby. Sometimes I lose.”</p><p>She looks right into Eve’s eyes then. “But I mostly win.”</p><p>Eve gives in to her then, returning her thumb back over Oksana’s cut, and Oksana parts her lips and bites her gently.</p><p>Eve realizes then that she is going to shag her son’s teacher.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Oksana asks around Eve’s thumb.</p><p>Right. “What do you think I’m doing here?” Eve asks, low, attempting (and failing) to sound smoky and sexy. Smokily sexy. Sexily smoky. Or something. Then -- “What are <em> you </em> doing here, Oksana?”</p><p>“I wanted to get laid,” Oksana says bluntly. It’s one of the moments her Russian accent comes out heavy. “You know.”</p><p>Well, <em> that </em> was easy. “Oh,” Eve blinks. “I -- same.”</p><p>“Well,” Oksana says, shrugging, eyes flickering around the bar. “I guess I will let you lay me, Eve.” She’s doing all of this with Eve’s thumb in her mouth, and it doesn’t seem like she’s planning to pull off of it anytime soon, so Eve draws her hand back and replaces it with her mouth, pressing over Oksana’s cut warmly before fitting over her mouth.</p><p>Oksana skin is so cold. She’s craning her neck down awkwardly, attempting to push her body forward and against Eve’s, but Eve’s knees are in her way. Eve would absolutely spread them open right about now but the dress really doesn’t allow for that. It’s a cockblocking dress. Eve gasps into Oksana’s mouth, like a laugh.</p><p>Oksana draws back and it’s the first time Eve sees worry on her face. “What is it?” she asks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You laugh.”</p><p>“Oh?” Eve says, and gasps again, standing from her chair and wrapping her arms around Oksana’s shoulders a little frantically. “Oh, oh no, not at you! I was just -” she glances down at her dress, and Oksana’s eyes drop down as well, following her, “--   I wanted to help you get closer, but my stupid dress won’t let me move at all, let me<em> tell </em> you, and I was thinking <em> oh dear, it’s cockblocking me </em>.” She looks back at Oksana’s face, half-smiling apologetically. </p><p>“It’s not you,” Eve continues, low, “I definitely was not laughing at you, oh god, no.”</p><p>Oksana seems content with that, pursing her lips. “You look sexy,” she sighs, drawn out. Her hands settle on Eve’s waist, fingertips digging in as she leans forward and presses her mouth against Eve’s jaw. “It is <em> nice </em>little dress. I will tear it off you, okay?”</p><p>“<em> Oh </em> ,” Eve gasps again, clutching at Oksana’s shoulders, “oh, yes, <em> please </em>.”</p><p>Oksana laughs, low, and cops a feel of Eve’s arse. </p><p>Eve doesn’t flush, not even when the bartender smirks her way all congratulatory-looking.</p><p>Holy shit, she’s going to <em> shag </em> her son’s teacher.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Oksana presses Eve right up against the wall of her foyer as soon as the door closes, or maybe even a few seconds before the lock snicks with the frame.</p><p>She kisses with alternating passionate intensity and bite, sucking Eve’s bottom lip gently for a moment before catching it between her sharp teeth and tugging just a little. She’s got her arms pressed flat to the wall either side of Eve’s head but brings a hand down, dragging her palm up flat along Eve’s side before resting on one of her breasts, groping roughly. </p><p>Eve is so turned on she’s lightheaded. She can feel her nipples tighten underneath the coarse material of her dress and can feel the pulsing between her thighs. “Oh, god,” she breathes when Oksana kisses down her neck, and then digs her teeth into her breast through the dress. “You’re just --   bedroom -?”</p><p>“<em> Yes </em>,” Oksana says gleefully, brushing past Eve and heading up the stairs. Eve gives herself barely a minute to collect her thoughts before she’s following after her. She has to hold the rail as she makes her way up the steps, legs weak.</p><p>Oksana’s in the hallway, shoulders hunched a little, glancing between the doors. She looks like a predator shrouded in the late-night shadows, and it turns Eve on impossibly more. “Is that Mateusz’s bedroom?” she asks, glancing inside what is actually Mateusz’s room.</p><p>“Not the time,” Eve grits out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the bedroom across the hall. Oksana is grumbling behind her about the <em> Toronto Maple Leafs </em> poster Mateusz has hung up on his wall. “Shit team,” she hisses, “the <em> Montréal Canadiens </em> are the best, obviously --”</p><p>That’s all Eve lets her grit out before she pushes her down on the bed, straddling her hips and ducking down for another all-consuming kiss. She’s too turned on to be thinking about various Canadian cities right now.</p><p>“Can you get the zipper?” she murmurs into Oksana’s cheek, and Oksana obliges, working deftly to undo the zip and then quickly push the material down over Eve’s shoulders. She wraps an arm around Eve’s waist then and rolls her onto her back, settling between Eve’s thighs and tugging the rest of the dress off down her legs. She tosses it over her shoulder where it lands with a heavy thump on the floor near the door somewhere.</p><p>“Finally,” she groans, ducking down to nip at Eve’s navel. Eve feels another pulse ripple through her lower abdomen. “Hated that fucking dress.”</p><p>“I thought you said I looked sexy in it,” Eve breathes. Oksana licks the skin stretched across her hip, right above exactly where Eve wants her tongue.</p><p>“You did look sexy in it!” she argues, hooking her fingers each side of Eve’s underwear and sliding the delicate material down gently, goosebumps rising in its wake, “but...you look much better now.”</p><p>Eve loves a sweet-talker, she won’t deny it. Niko used to be just that when they first met, but it faded fast. She watches Oksana run her hands reverently up and down the sides of her thighs, kissing her in between her legs, that soft patch of extremely thin skin stretching over the junction of her thigh and cunt. Then her wet mouth shifts from there and her tongue pokes out, licking the slick that’s gathered on the seam of Eve’s mound.</p><p>Eve shivers, and as Oksana ducks low between her thighs, crouching, eyes lowered, Eve slides her fingers into Oksana’s hair. Oksana makes a low noise at that, brings her own hand round and licks the pad of her thumb before nudging between Eve’s folds, rubbing.</p><p>It feels so good. Eve reflexively clenches around it even though it’s just the tip and Oksana makes another noise, louder, more pleased. She pushes her thumb in a little further, to the webbing of her hand, and parts Eve’s cunt, staring down.</p><p>“It’s very nice,” she says lowly. Her breath puffs against Eve, and Eve closes her eyes, shifts a little for more -- more touch, more heat, more anything, really. “You’re so beautiful everywhere, you know?”</p><p>“Thank you,” Eve says dumbly. She wants to kick herself round the head as soon as the words slip out but before she can even think Oksana’s licking around her finger, tongue darting out in broad, flat strokes.</p><p>It’s interesting is what it is. Eve’s never been with anyone who hasn’t dived right in and she can’t tell if the teasing is frustrating or welcomed. If the wetness trailing down the crack of her ass and no doubt is pooling on her bedsheet is any indicator, it’s extremely welcomed by her body, but her mind is about to crack with want. “Oksana,” she tries, lower body burning warmly.</p><p>Oksana ignores her, presses her mouth closer. Her thumb is still pressing softly inside of Eve, pushing the flesh, and she’s just licking gently everywhere her tongue lands. And then her tongue is licking right into the very centre of her and it’s just, well.</p><p>It’s lovely, is what it is, and Eve really would like a little fucking more.</p><p>“Oksana, please,” she sighs, and it comes out a little impatient and huffy. She’d like to apologise but Oksana is tonguing her, sucking on her clit then, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed like she’s focused with intent. Her thumb slides out and that little patch of flesh feels incredibly cold without her touch.</p><p>But she’s moving her mouth back then, kissing over Eve’s mound as she wriggles two fingers in to her knuckles easily. They’re pressed tight together and like that they’re thick enough for Eve to clench around and bear down on eagerly, missing the feeling of fullness. Oksana just rocks them in and out for a moment like that before she scissors them just a little, hooking them inside of Eve, rubbing the rough pads of her fingers around tantalizingly.</p><p>Eve comes with a startled little shock, hips undulating. It rips out of her easily and with no warning and she feels herself become even wetter around Oksana, whose eyes have snapped open, mouth stretched into a bratty little smirk. </p><p>“Oh my goodness” Eve says like a dumbass, mouth feeling dry and a little cottony.</p><p>“‘Oh my goodness?’” Oksana repeats, eyebrows arching elegantly. Her fingers rub inside of Eve again but this time it’s with a new layer of slickness between them. Eve wants more fingers. “You can do better than that, Eve.”</p><p>She slips her fingers and brings her mouth back down, sucking at her like she’s cleaning her up. She avoids Eve’s sensitive clit and instead focuses everywhere else, making these hot little wet and obscene noises. Her mouth moves lower, lower, licking at the damp area between Eve’s cunt and her clenching arsehole, nose nudging between Eve’s folds, and Eve flinches when her thumb is back to rub at the furl of her hole.</p><p>“Jesus,” she says, and Oksana grins up at her. She swats the top of Oksana’s head. “Not now --”</p><p>“Oh,” Oksana says gleefully. “Not <em> now </em>, huh. Another day then?” She rubs a little more firmly, and Eve is worried for a moment that she’ll be able to nudge the tip of her thumb in because her body honestly feels like it wants to open up for it, combined with the fact that she’s so wet everywhere, Christ. “That’s so dirty.”</p><p>But her hand slides back to Eve’s cunt then and Eve is almost disappointed for a moment before Oksana slides three fingers into her this time. They’re tightly pressed together and Eve gasps because of the way it nudges the underside of her clit and the stretch is nearly too much for her frayed nerves. She tries to wiggle away but Oksana’s hand chases her, pressed so deeply inside her she feels lightheaded.</p><p>“Fuck,” Eve whimpers. Oksana moves to kiss the inside of her thighs, her hips, the part of her cunt where her fingers have disappeared sunken inside of her. The oversensitivity has faded and now she’s turned on again, chasing another high as she rocks against Oksana’s fingers. They feel startlingly good and they’re clever too, smoothing around inside of her just right. Eve wonders how often Oksana does this but that’s only for a moment until she gets her thoughts back in order, focusing on the topic at hand.</p><p>Oksana’s eating her out now around her fingers, face buried between Eve’s legs. Eve’s still too sensitive but alongside that she already feels like she could come again. She throws her arm over her face, eyes screwing shut as she rolls her hips down, meeting every thrust of Oksana’s fingers.</p><p>“Oh my god,” she breathes, arching off the bed as she squeezes her thighs around Oksana’s face and comes again, warmth rushing through her groin.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Oksana’s gone in the morning.</p><p>It’s not surprising but Eve can’t stop feeling disappointed, pushing herself up on her elbows, studying the spot next to her in the bed. She can still make out the shape of a body, but when she reaches a hand out and rests her palm there, the human warmth has disappeared.</p><p>Eve’s generally a light sleeper but she hadn’t heard or felt Oksana slip out at all. She bites her lip, her hand rubbing into the sheets, pressing into the mattress aimlessly, before she slips out of bed and heads to the shower.</p><p>She washes off quickly and heads downstairs, turning the coffee machine on and dropping two slices of bread into the toaster. She turns the telly on and switches it to a random news channel for background noise before settling at the kitchen island with her laptop.</p><p>She clicks into her email.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Hey Kenny, can you do a background check for me? Oksana Astankova. Don’t know her age or anything else, sorry. She says she’s Russian, and I believe her, but I just want to make sure. Let me know if you see anything noteworthy :) xx </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Kenny responds five minutes after Eve’s polished off her toast.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oksana Astankova. Twenty-seven years old. Born in Russia (Moscow) to Ivan Astankov and Natalia Astankova (both deceased). Moved to England nine years ago for school. Decided to stay. Works as a teacher primarily teaching years 6, 7, and 8. Currently teaching year 8. Unmarried. No criminal record. Nothing out of the ordinary. Hope that helps. Xx </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Kenny </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Eve reads it over and then re-reads it.</p><p>So Mateusz’s teacher is probably not a spy then. Eve never rules anything out but it’s unlikely. Oksana just knows how to use weaponry, and enjoys sparring in her free time, and was born with quiet cat-like reflexes.</p><p>Eve knows those things don’t make someone a secret spy or assassin.</p><p>Mateusz and his friends were right. She’s just weird, then.</p><p>Eve takes a sip of her coffee. Oksana’s not weird. She feels guilty thinking that. She just has...unorthodox interests, then. Not every woman has to tote a membership to a book club to just be a regular citizen.</p><p>She sighs, closing her laptop. She stirs a little more sugar into her coffee.</p><p>She can’t lie.</p><p>It would have been pretty hot if Oksana was secretly a spy or an assassin or something.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>On Monday, Kenny greets Eve when she arrives at the office.</p><p>“Morning, Eve,” he says with a smile. “I was just wondering if Oksana Astankova was important for the case? Would you like me to gather more intel on her?”</p><p>He looks relaxed, posture loose. He’s wearing a collared shirt. There’s definitely a hundred bruises up and down his neck under those lapels. Eve is so tempted to lean over, pull the thin baby blue material back, and have herself a look -- and if it were anyone else she probably would have, but it’s <em> Kenny </em>. She’d probably scar him forever.</p><p>“Oh no, don’t worry,” Eve says, grinning. She drops her paperwork onto her table heavily, settling into her chair. “She’s just my kid’s teacher, and you know me, always paranoid and overthinking things.”</p><p>“Oh, right, right,” Kenny nods. “I understand that, yeah? You want to know who’s around your kids for the whole year.” He grins at her.</p><p>Eve is <em> so </em> glad some fit Oxford boy fucked the skittishness out of him for now. She bites her lip.</p><p>“I also had sex with her,” she blurts.</p><p>Kenny’s smile drops. And then he blushes furiously.</p><p>“I -” he says, and coughs into his fist. “Oh. Right. I --” he looks into the hallway, stepping out the doorway backwards. “I should go. I have. Um. Stuff.”</p><p>And he’s gone.</p><p>Maybe the Oxford boy didn’t fuck him hard<em> enough </em>?</p><p>“You’d think he’s a bloody virgin who didn’t spend the whole weekend taking Oxford dick,” Elena sighs from behind Eve, and Eve nearly rockets out of her chair.</p><p>She whirls around, hand clutching over her heart. “Elena! I didn’t even -”</p><p>“See me here?” she interrupts. She holds her hands up in a finger-gun motion, winking at Eve. “I’m like 007. Quiet. Calculated. I should be a field agent.” She drops her hands and then says happily, “so how good did you get your cunt eaten this weekend then?”</p><p>Eve understands Kenny all of the sudden. “Jesus,” she mutters. “Not good enough to have this conversation,” which is a flat-out lie, of course. She thinks she can still sense the phantom feeling of Oksana’s fingers inside her, moving, searching. She still wants it, again and again and again.</p><p>Elena looks disappointed. “Unfortunate,” she says, pursing her lips and turning back to her work forlornly. Kenny returns a moment later, slipping into his chair quietly and putting his earbuds in quickly before anyone can pester him.</p><p>Eve taps her finger on her desk and sighs. Something feels off. She had sex for the first time in more than a year -- mind-blowing sex -- and slept more soundly than she has in a while. Mateusz was returned back to her door full of borscht and smiling ear to ear. They’re making progress with Vasiliev’s case.</p><p>And yet something just feels off.</p><p>She’d be lying if she said she didn’t know what it was. She wants to see Oksana again, and then wants to continue seeing Oksana after that. She’s only ever spoken to Oksana on two separate occasions but she’s found, ridiculously, that she just can’t stop thinking about her. She wants to know more about her. She wants to become friends and maybe even more than friends.</p><p>Correction: <em> definitely </em> wants to become more than friends.</p><p>“Elena,” she says slowly, and Elena pops back in her line of sight, eyes bright and a little evil. “Question.”</p><p>“Yes, love?” she trills, batting her eyelashes in an over-the-top manner. Eve snorts.</p><p>“Hypothetical,” she adds. Elena nods. “If you met someone you really liked once, and then the next time you met them you had sex, but they left the next morning without letting you know and haven’t contacted you since...what would you do? And remember, you really like them.”</p><p>“I -” Elena starts.</p><p>“And also they’re your kid’s teacher.”</p><p>“Right,” Elena says dryly, “I got that from earlier.”</p><p>“They’re your <em> what </em>?” Bill chides from the doorway. Eve swivels around.</p><p>“You heard me.”</p><p>“Christ Eve, what have you gotten yourself into now?” He shakes his head, setting a paper tray holding four coffees on a small table by the wall.</p><p>“On the scale of disastrous situations I’ve found myself in, this definitely ranks hard between the time we got caught up with corrupt American politicians from Maryland and the time we got caught up with corrupt American politicians from Indiana.”</p><p>Elena makes a face. “Where does the time we got caught up with corrupt politicians from Florida rank?” she asks, grabbing both her and Eve’s coffees. Bill rolls his eyes and hands Kenny the last cup in the tray. Kenny takes it with a mumbled <em> thanks </em>.</p><p>“That was one of the worst,” Eve says, inhaling the hot scent of java. “That ranks even higher than the time we got lost in Bruges. Remember that one Bill?”</p><p>“Florida or Bruges?” Bill asks. “Unfortunately can I recall them both with an utterly startling amount of clarity.”</p><p>Eve laughs. Elena pouts, clearly feeling left out.</p><p>“What happened in Bruges?” Kenny pipes up.</p><p>“What <em> hasn’t </em>happened in Bruges?” Eve replies.</p><p>“What about Florida?” Elena asks. “What happened there?”</p><p>“Everything,” Eve says, “absolutely everything.”</p><p>Elena narrows her eyes. “Cryptic, hm,” she says, and then holds her hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. Don’t tell me.”</p><p>“Why don’t you come with us to Bruges next time?” Bill suggests. </p><p>Elena shrieks with happiness. Bill winks at Eve, and turns to Kenny.<br/>“You as well, Kenny?”</p><p>“Yeah, right, well,” Kenny says, and Eve can see the gears in his head turning to find an excuse. “I...I’d better not, right? I’m much more useful here as it is, I think, and --”</p><p>Bill cocks his head. He’s enjoying this, Eve can tell. “I believe you’d be pretty useful on the field actually.”</p><p>Kenny’s definitely starting to panic a little bit. If Eve was a better person she’d tell Bill to knock it off, but. She’s never been a better person, and she’s always acknowledged that easily.</p><p>“He’s right,” she says instead. “You should join us!”</p><p>“Oh, piss off it,” Elena says, swatting Eve’s shoulder. “Leave the poor thing alone. He’s about to collapse.”</p><p>Kenny generally always appears as if he’s going to collapse; it’s his natural state of being. He gives Elena a thankful look and turns back to his computer.</p><p>Elenea turns her attention towards Eve as soon as he’s tuned into his music. “Right then,” she says. “Now what’s this about your kids’ teacher?”</p><p>The problem with Elena is that she’s not satisfied with simple answers. She prods until she can wean out more and more, and she probably won’t stop now until Eve tells her she’s fucked her kids’ teacher, so Eve looks her dead in the eye and says, “I fucked my kids’ teacher.”</p><p>Elena screams so loud it could shatter glass, but it’s really Bill’s look in response -- a mixture of appalled and astonished -- that really makes it for Eve. </p><p>She smirks and turns back to her desk.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Eve gets home at a respectable time that evening; not early enough to pick Mateusz up from school but early enough to whip up something remotely tasty for dinner.</p><p>She’s thinking steamed rice with sticky chicken and sautéed vegetables. She’s pretty certain she’s got all the ingredients on hand, and she bought a ready bottle of delicious-looking chicken marinade a few weeks ago with the original intention to use it much quicker than she actually has, but, you know, better late than never.</p><p>She unlocks the door, steps into her foyer, and comes face-to-face with Oksana.</p><p>“What the --” she starts. Mateusz pops up from behind the wall blocking the kitchen, a long green slip of sugary candy sticking out of his mouth.</p><p>“Umma,” he says. He doesn’t look sheepish at all for inviting someone into their house without Eve’s permission; he’s not even rapidly spitting an excuse or explanation her way for god’s sake. Eve thinks, belatedly, that she may have raised him too lax. “It’s Miss Astankova.”</p><p>“I drove him home,” Oksana says. She literally hasn’t moved, breath hot and scented with sharp, spicy cinnamon. Her eyes are unabashedly downcast, watching Eve’s mouth work over silent words. “I saw him plodding to metro like little helpless baby goat. Hope it is okay?”</p><p>She doesn’t look apologetic at all. She looks good though; honey hair pinned back, simple blazer and dress pants. She’s wearing a tie too and it’s hitting Eve in all the right ways. Eve doesn’t know how to respond. Like a concerned parent? Like a jilted lover who was left after a hot and passionate night to a cold and empty bed?</p><p>Like a horny single woman who can’t help but notice the fading bruise she knows she left on Oksana two evenings ago, unhidden?</p><p>“Of course it’s alright,” she says without thinking, and reaches out to touch Oksana’s upper arm. Oksana flinches slightly before catching herself, looking down at where Eve’s hand is resting on her, and then meets Eve’s eyes again, eyebrows raised, mouth quirked. “I’d rather him not use the metros like a...” she hesitates. “Um, a helpless baby goat.”</p><p>Oksana nods. “Of course. Wouldn’t like that.”</p><p>She’s so cute. Weird as hell, but so cute. And her tongue is fantastic.</p><p>“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Eve asks, and, fuck.</p><p>Oksana’s eyes glimmer.</p><p>“I would love that, Eve,” she says.</p><p>Eve can’t decide if she’s made a terrible mistake or done something great.</p><p> </p><p>---</p>
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